Luyện nghe bài hát Sasquatch

After filling my of whore beaters
Soared to Bell and I ordered some gorditas (Mmm, that's good!)
Wanted more, ordered 'em, didn't eat 'em
Then head to Thebe's house for gymnastics
Fantastic, I backflip on this B
Cause we running like the Dingleberry's on four cheetahs
Flow colder than Papa or Domino's (Fuck it, whatever, um)
Trashwang scratched inside the
Got some One tickets, I should hit that up
Drive by with signs plastered on the truck
see how many of they fans could fit inside the trunk
Move over the microwave and the
Try to take the van and the whole band to
the block news and the venues, they can't handle us
They can't stand us including that Frank's channeling
The Ku Klux see me and my managers
But thank me when they ask where the Five is (fuck)
Man, I suck now, I ain't still (nope)
But Chris and Rihanna's again so there's still hope
Oh fuck, I went there, bitch, I'm Ben's hair
Y'all barely breaking like Taco's self-esteem in a thin
Old Navy bitches this gap, yeah this grin's rare
Watch a nigga like five-year-old child
I'm kicking it Nak and the nigga from Green Mile, it's
Red Bull in this cup so a may seem wild but
That's just all the sherm I was a little while ago
let me get hold of that rifle
Shout my nigga Sage Elsseser and Sean
Surrounded by them niggas that skate a sick style
And some freckled bitches with giant that's vile
They never did catch that

Squadron of some lost souls
Sergeant of all, it's autumn and Nak just a pothole
Non-cooperative with his wishes for college
And coppers a problem since paying for Damianos
So shimmy through the swamp, nigga, me through the foxholes
Moral Orenthal with a pretty bitch in a
Hopped off the seven and stumbled into some Vatos
Threw a punch, got jumped, dusted off and walked home
Shit, like 6 p.m. and his temple throbbing
Hand in the by seven, sniff the prescription oxies
Logo in the boxes, all my niggas
Cautious of your crosses, scoffing at doctrines
Bitches augmented as the group is
slightly, write precise to get a pussy nigga two chins
Man these stitches shut the loose lips, in a Ruth's Chris
Slid a booth and hid the luggage from his shroom trips
See, Lionel ball with Leonardo on the now
And Maui on a route, we on the second season now
Small fry got 'em seasons salty, weeded,
Ease up off me, end is breathing as bulimics barfing
From a breed of doggy, from a different seed and cloth
And teeing off, believe it's Golf Wang,